Things I’ll Never Say

Posted on March 6, 2013 by ashersmom

As we’ve discussed before, I’m not a big talker. That’s probably why I sit behind my computer just tippy-typing all day long. That way, I get to say whatever I want and I only have to say it once. Geez, I hate repeating myself. I hate it so much that If I had the time, resources or patience, I’d just record all of my ~~rants~~ opinions on my iphone and then press play whenever someone asked me something.

Another big bonus to my methods are that I don’t have to listen to all the asinine opinions of people who disagree with me either. I mean, you can type it out in the comments section of my blog if you want to…and if you make me laugh, I’ll approve it whether you disagree with me or not (Check out the comments on my post The Top Ten Ways To Get Your Husband To Leave Work on Time to see what I mean – a couple of guys put some serious time into their responses). But if you’re sanctimonious or stupid or boring…DELETE! As Bobby Brown would sing, “That’s my prerogative.” If you don’t like it, start your own blog and slave away for free like me.

All of this is my ranty way of leading up to my new list: Things I Would Never Say. It’s probably a better way to get to know me than a list of the things I would say.

1. Your kid sounds really smart and talented…tell me more.

2. Can I borrow your beach umbrella? I can’t stand the sun.

3. No, I don’t want to go to Anthropologie.

4. Preschool is a waste of money. I’d rather just keep my kids with me at all times.

5. Sure you can practice on my hair.

6. I’d just love to get a 3rd dog.

7. I can be ready in 10 minutes.

8. I hate being alone.

9. I’m thinking of homeschooling.

10. Why would someone need more than 2 pairs of shoes?

11. I’m just dying to go for a run.

12. I get a lot of satisfaction from cleaning my house.

13. Jeans never go out of style. I’m still wearing mine from high school.

14. I don’t drink.

15. Why would anyone waste their time reading US Weekly?

16. No need to call…just drop by anytime.

17. I’d be happy to chair that committee.

18. I can’t wait for winter.

19. I love to chat on the phone.

20. Let’s just get a tent and go camping for the weekend.

So there you have 20 Things I Will Never Say. My husband insists this entire post is an inside joke and no one who doesn’t know me personally will get it. But I’m super-stubborn and always think I’m right so I’m posting it anyway.

So I guess another thing I”ll never say is “I’m wrong.” HA!

Wanna play? What are a few things you’ll NEVER say?

Hey — something else I know I’m right about? The impressive funniness of the other bloggers featured in “my” upcoming book, “I Just Want To Pee Alone.” Here are some links to some of their funniest stuff for you to chortle at before the book comes out. Just look at the titles…your finger will get all clicky. And yes, I said “chortle.” It’s a thing.

Naps Happen: Welcome and Have a Nap

Kelley’s Breakroom: The Frisky Masseuse

Binkies and Briefcases: My Tom Selleck Tramp Stamp

I Love Them The Most When They’re Sleeping: 50 Shades…10 Years Later

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The Unexpected Kindergartener

Posted on August 20, 2012 by ashersmom

I almost put a little somethin’ something’ in my coffee this morning.

By the time I took my first caffeinated sip, I had already been to my son’s new school, left him sitting all by himself in a big room and had an emotional breakdown while driving home.

I’m sure sending your 5-year-old off to kindergarten for the first time is traumatic for everybody.

But at least most of you get the chance to emotionally prepare a little.

We had every intention of sending our barely-5-year-old back to his preschool this year and then doing kindergarten next year.

But then, in the middle of last week, came the call.

Somehow he’d made it up the waiting list at The Kindezi School, even though we were so far down we never gave it another thought, and although they’d been in class for almost 2 weeks already, he had a place in their kindergarten class.

In less than 24 hours, we had to change our entire perception of what our year would be like.

But with such an innovative approach to teaching, incredibly small student-teacher ratios, and almost no chance of getting in next year, it just wasn’t something we could pass up.

Last Tuesday, Asher turned 5.

I was having enough problems dealing with that.

There’s something about that age.

1, 2, 3 and 4 I could accept without losing it.

5 is just so big…

Until you leave them alone in a big cafeteria surrounded by people they don’t know.

And you walk away with your heart in your throat.

And you glance back at that face in a sea of others.

And your little boy waves at you and smiles.

And it’s all you can do to walk away and leave him to what he’s not even worried about.

And then, if you’re me, it suddenly hits you as you drive away.

And even though you’re not much of a crier, you ball like you’re several years younger than your kindergartener, all the way home.

And contemplate having a little kahlua in your coffee because, as Asher says, you’re so “fressed out.”

But it’s a very special school run by very special people.

By 9:20am, I already had an email from the principal in my inbox telling me he’d peeked in on my boy and he was doing well.

And that helped with my “fress” levels a bit.

But I’m still holding my breath until 3pm.

What ya wanna bet I’m the first car in the pick-up line today?

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Stop Talking About It

Posted on March 8, 2012 by ashersmom

Because what's funnier than a hamper on your head?

This morning, while in the bathroom washing my face, I overheard this exchange between father and 4-year-old son:

“Take off your pajama pants and put on your jeans.”

Followed by various animal and other unintelligible noises and the sounds of pattering feet.

“Here, take these and put them on — we’re gonna be late for school!”

The swooshing sounds of someone larger trying to catch someone quick and small.

“Here, put your foot in!”

“I gonna do it ALL BY MYSELF!”

“Then do it.”

Two minute pause while my husband comes into the bathroom to brush his teeth then exits again.

“Asher, put on your pants!!!” And I can only assume Gabe then tried to hurry up the process by helping.

“No! I gonna do it ALL BY MYSELF!”

And this is the part that really caught my attention. Words of wisdom tossed off in the chaos of the morning rush.

“Well then stop talking about doing it, and do it.”

Gabe heard me laughing and came back into the bathroom.

“What?” he said.

“Words of wisdom,” said I.

And we laughed.

But we both know they really are.

Those words resonate with me. I feel like I’ve done some talking about doing things that was not followed by doing those things in my life, and if I have any regrets, that’s one of them. I’d love my son (both of them actually) to be the kind of person who stops talking about things and just does them.

That would make me very proud.

Whatever it is he’s doing.

As long as he’s doing.

With all the usual caveats about criminal activities and so forth.

I love my sons with all my heart. More than I ever thought I could love anyone.

I’ll always love them with the overwhelming intensity that is being a mom. But beyond loving them, my wish for their futures is that they become people I admire.

This one thing I’m talking about doing and actually doing every day of my life. Trying to do at least some small thing to effect this.

It’s a job I take seriously.

Although sometimes we just sit around and talk about how stinky things are.

Because we can only be serious for so long.

Stand and Deliver

Posted on February 29, 2012 by ashersmom

The Fleet men

This past week was a time of milestones for my boys.

Meyer hit 33 weeks gestation (even though he’s gestating in an incubator now) and according to BabyCenter, became a pineapple weighing in at 4 pounds. He’s starting to look more like a baby and less like some skinny, wrinkly old man alien. When I hold him, which is still restricted to about 30 minutes per day (yes,it’s making me insane), I actually feel like something’s in my arms now. Apparently, a pineapple.

And Asher decided it was milestone time for him as well. He decided it was time to pee standing up.

The child was slow to potty train in the first place — he was one of those kids that could care less about what anyone thought. All the mentions in the world about how his friends were all going potty had no impact on the kid. He still hates interrupting his play to go potty, and it gets him in trouble sometimes because he waits until the last second.

I’ll suddenly hear this urgent, “I need to go potty!” and I know there’s a 50-50 chance he’s gonna start to pee before his pants are all the way down.

We did, however, finally manage to convince Asher to jettison the pull-ups and use the potty, but he’s been just fine sitting down to pee until about 2 weeks ago.

That’s when I casually mentioned to him that his “best friend” at school, Josiah, stands to pee, like a big boy.

Me and my boys

Which I’m clearly just assuming is true.

Suddenly, Asher no longer wants to sit on the potty to pee. And it’s all because of me.

And with my 2 weeks experience in having a son who pees standing up, I’m left wondering…what the hell was I thinking?

When he was sitting to pee, the pee went were it was supposed to. Pretty much exclusively in the potty.

Now?

Pee goes everywhere.

Pee goes every freaking where.

It generally starts out either shooting high at the open lid of the toilet or low by shooting at Asher’s pants. And shoes. And the floor.

Then a sudden overcorrect will take it to whichever one of those areas at which it didn’t start.

Within a few seconds (you’d be shocked at how much pee can get in the wrong places in just a few seconds), a steady stream of pee will go right into the potty where it’s supposed to.

But my panicked yelling from seeing streaming pee hit various inappropriate parts of my bathroom then causes him to get the giggles which in turn causes him to wag his wee-wee around like a flashlight in the hands of someone in the Blair Witch Project.

And then the pee starts to go everywhere.

It’s on the wall, the baseboards, the base of the toilet, his step stool, his socks, his shoes, the cuff of his pants, the floor.

No one told me that having boy children means you’ll be scrubbing up someone else’s urine several times a day.

This woman’s work is not glamorous.

So much for my pre-kid vision of me as a mom: shopping and lunching while my kids sit quietly by my side looking adorable.

After 4 years of real life mothering, that fantasy is officially dripping with pee.